The opinion is all yours, I am leaving…

by Tim Cunningham

Posted to Poetry on 2002-03-21 10:24:00

Ever stared at the sea
and felt disgusted?
I thirst for purity,
but the salty air
injures my throath
before constructing
grey clouds
to plague all
innocent citizens

They blacken above
every corner and street
to wash away the sober
splashes of vigour

And I heard a piano
reciting my voice,
continuing to steal
the thoughts created
on that beach

There is no grace left
in this puppet,
stained clothes and
reignless eyes
to gaze and seek
for a horizon mountain
amidst the opus
of violin waves


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